Doubt
by Ambezua
Summary: One-shot about Edward and Winry's relationship... and a cloud which has gathered around it.


"Doubt"

by Ambezua

The dim twilight glow which permeated throughout the room shone around her bed as she stared blankly up toward the ceiling. Her long blonde hair was fanned out across her pillow as her thoughts were upon nothing but the young form beside her on the bed. His hair was likewise blonde, and his heart was consumed by the burning of the sun within him which drove him to stubbornly stand between that which he cared for and wished to protect and the danger which stood against him. Of course, the young woman knew of the struggles which he and his brother Alphonse had endured in order to not only restore their own bodies, but to save and reform the country from the pitch black pit of doom woven by monsters and protect herself and everyone else they cared about from danger. They had cheated death, taunted fate, and struggled to transverse hell itself... Yet that was not the reason.

As far as she searched her thoughts, she could not grasp nor even shed a stream of light upon the reason... the reason why she loved him so. From as far back as she could remember, there had always been a lingering feeling deep within her heart... its origin unknown and strangely foreign. It was as if every step she made toward him, his heart and soul took a step away. Yet, as she turned to her right and reached out to touch him he didn't feel as far away as she imagined him to be.

Edward Elric, the Full Metal Alchemist as he had been known, lay on his side turned away from the form sleeping beside him. He, too, felt uneasy and could not shake the cold feeling that gathered around his heart and soul. To him, Winry was not just a childhood friend, not just someone with whom and for whom he had carried worry, care, suffering, and conflict on the behalf of... She was the one person with whom he could entrust not only his confidence but also his heart. She had experienced her own share of hell, standing on the sidelines as Alphonse and himself had charged straight into the tendrils of despair and peril time and time again. Her will was as stronger than the most carefully forged alloy and yet as bountiful and caring as most loving mother. Yet, even though he knew all of this it did not explain one thing... If he was in such deep love and admiration for the one who slept soundly beside him... why was he so uneasy in her presence.

The blonde-haired woman reached toward Edward's form, and to her shock and instant horror she realized it was not what she had thought it was before... It was a model of her beloved, set beside her with the intention of deceiving her into a false sense of security while the real object of her affection had already long departed. For moments which seemed to draw into eternity, she stood staring at the dummy, a cold sweat breaking out over her body as the dark doubts rapidly began to swell within her. Breaking loose from the captivation of the spell she tore for the bedroom door without waiting to dress herself, rushing out into the pouring rain in her nightgown.

She raised her hand up to her forehead as she stared out into the thick haze, a lone cloaked figure stood before her in the road. The shroud of shadow covered her face and other features, but in its right hand gleamed the unmistakable sheen of a sword drawn and ready. The chill of fright and the whisper of fate ran down her spine... the only thought upon her mind was the sorrow which would encompass her beloved upon finding her lifeless form.

Edward reached over toward Winry's sleeping form and brushed a stray strand of hair from her ear and caressed her cheek. A bitter-sweet smile spread across his lips as he pushed himself up and reached for his overcoat which lay strewn across the floor beside the bed. He slipped his arms into the sleeves and checked over the double of himself that he left in his place one last time... There was someone that he needed to confront, and something which he needed to settle within himself.

He stood in the doorway and with one last glance over his shoulder at her peacefully sleeping form he closed the door behind him. Reaching into his coat pocket he drew out a single strip of paper which read: "Edward, prove yourself by meeting me at the crossing of Fifth Street and Central Boulevard at midnight."

It was not the time of the meeting, nor the message's wording itself, nor even the strange phenomina of its appearance which compelled him to give the note a second glance... It was something that he didn't quite understand himself. As he raised up his eyes from the cobblestone road below him to the lone cloaked figure which stood at the predetermined location, he knew that he had made the correct decision.

He widened his stance slightly as his eyes narrowed. Slowly, the figure before him reached to its side and drew a sword, the shimmering gleam slicing through the mist. Without missing a beat, Edward lunged forward but the figure effortlessly parried the blow with the flat of the blade while stepping back and rotating to face him once again. He then slid toward the figures legs but it merely jumped to the side and returned to the same firm stance as before. Swirling around, he instantly grasped the figure by the shoulder and swung his right fist upward. Just then, something large and metallic struck Edward square in the forehead and broke his grasp on the figures shoulder. A slow trickle of blood ran down his face as his left hand instinctively pressed against the wound.

"What the heck?" Edward shouted at the hooded figure, "You call me out here and you won't even fight with me seriously? What was that th-"

The blonde-haired young man's eyes widened as they fixed upon the blunt tool which had impacted his head a short while ago.

"Interesting..." he grinned, "how would you know about that-"

"IDIOT!" the figure shouted and threw the wrench at him, although this time he caught it before it struck him in the face, "Do you have any idea what I have been through?"

As she slowly opened her eyes, the sound of her heart pounding against her chest, the woman who thought herself to be Winry stood in the rain, staring at the damp form of her own reflection beside Edward. The figure's hood had been pulled back, revealing the unmistakable flowing blonde locks, blue eyes and worn expression of the woman who Edward had confessed his love so many years ago.

"Oi," Edward called out to her, "Who are you, anyway? I've felt something off about you for a while."

"I don't know!" the woman cried out, "I don't know... I don't know! Everything I thought I knew, everything I thought I remembered, everything I thought was me... Its a lie, it must be a lie and I never ever thought it could be."

"It doesn't matter," Edward replied, "What you think doesn't really matter either. What's important is that you figure out how to move on, on your own."

The woman looked to Winry, who nodded and gave her a gentle smile.

"I don't have anywhere to go-"

"Then make somewhere to go," Edward cut her off, "You can't solve anything by standing here."

The woman seemed visibly shaken by his words, but seemed to understand as she turned toward the damp clouds above them and nodded.

"Thank you."

The early morning streams of light struck Edward's face and caused him to stir, moaning as he turned and unintentionally kicked Winry who slept beside him right off the bed. She hit the floor with a loud thud and an angered growl.

"Ed... Don't just-" she pulled herself back up onto the bed and raised her fist into the air, but the cheeky grin on his face stayed her hand.

"Why are you in such a bad mood?" Edward asked, stretching his arms before stepping out of bed.

"I just remembered something," Winry replied softly.

"Hm?"

"The day we met Doubt, remember?"

"Right," Edward blinked, "but why do you bring her up?"

"You never kissed her, right?" Winry's eyes narrowed slightly.

Edward slipped off the edge of the bed and his head slammed against the floor, "Of course not, Winry!"

"Why is that?" Winry pressed him further.

"Because..." Edward scratched the back of his head as she sat back onto the bed, his cheeks deeply reddened, "She's not you."


End file.
